The Tears They Flow Like Alcohol
by raeghan
Summary: 'She has a million and one questions and she's afraid to know the answers to all of them.' Set in season one. Slight AU. Title taken from Steamboat by The Weeks.


Zoe Hart learns that Crazy Earl Kinsella, when sober, is just as charming, if not more so than his son.

Zoe watches him harmlessly flirt with every woman around as he grills steaks and burgers and hotdogs at the annual Bluebell Memorial Day party.

It's a long standing tradition (and she knows that Bluebell just loves and lives for traditions) to have the party at Earl's house since he has the clearest view over the lake to watch the fireworks and she has to hand it to southern hospitality because even though Earl is a drunk for the first week of every month and makes a public spectacle of himself by threatening to jump off of some roof somewhere in town nobody acts as anything less than gracious to him for agreeing to hold the party again.

The place looks great; probably thanks to Lemon and her merry band of southern bells. Red, white, and blue, are all over with tea lights in brown paper bags lining walk ways so people know where they're going in the rapidly dimming light. Lanterns and twinkling Christmas lights illuminate the rest of the yard. It looks just like a Bluebell party should; like it's right out of a Norman Rockwell painting.

Maybe they're all so understanding because he doesn't hurt or bother anyone, just himself. It's a self contained disaster that they all accept and understand. She knows there has to be more to the story that nobody is telling her and she's not asking.

But she knows for sure that Earl has a very easy and natural way with the ladies. He flirts with every one of them and they all giggle or blush or lightly hit his arm with their free hand with an _'oh Earl'_. He even got to Zoe. He called her darling as he offered her something off the grill and she was ready to launch into a very doctor like rant about how many toxins are in hot dogs and how hamburgers need to be cooked correctly but then she figured that she should probably just keep her mouth shut because it's Memorial Day and she doesn't need to give the townspeople another reason to roll their eyes at her. Plus Earl is being nice and seems to like her (but he likes every woman) and she's not in a position to scare away anyone that is.

She's been fairly relaxed the whole day. She made a promise to herself that she would do anything she could to have a good day and not get into any kind of trouble that would set back her snail pace progress of fitting into the town. The key to that, apparently, is doing nothing. Not trying too hard to fit in and to not force it. It's been easy enough. She has barely moved from the oversized wooden chair that's facing the water with Wade right by her side.

His chair has been pulled up next to hers close enough that when both of their arms are down on the arm rest their skin touches. Normally that would drive her crazy and she'd throw a fit and demand that he move away from her but today is different.

He's not paying any attention to her. He's not doing it to get a rise out of her. He probably doesn't even know that he's doing it. He's too focused on his father. He's watching him so carefully that the rest of the party, all the townspeople; Lemon and George and Lavon and Rose watching but trying to not be seen watching the impending breakup of Magnolia and Fredrick Dean, don't matter to him.

It's like he's counting the number of days he has left where his father is sober. He's not letting himself enjoy the moment because he knows that it's fleeting. He doesn't have to worry about his father drinking tonight since the party is dry (another tip of the hat to Bluebell) and everyone is drinking lemonade or sweet tea except for the four or five teenage boys that are sneaking wine coolers behind the barn that no one bothers with because they're far enough away to not cause problems and _boys will be boys. _

In a few weeks another check will come in and Earl will be back up on the roof and he'll be following after him.

It's kind of heartbreaking. The look of worry on his face is so new and unsettling and she's not used to it. She doesn't like it. She wants the care free, fun, obnoxiously forward Wade back. She's tried to engage him multiple times but he just wasn't having it. He only nodded and mumbled a vague response to her question or comments in a muted tone and kept his eyes on his father.

She wonders how this got started. When did Earl start drinking? Was it before or after Wade was born and what started it? How did it affect Wade when he was growing up? When did he go from Dad to Crazy Earl? When did Wade just give up referring to him as his father flat out and agreed to go along with what everyone else thought of him? Crazy Earl sounds harsh coming from his own son but there had to have been a time when Wade defended him. She imagines him getting into fight after fight in high school with kids that talked down to his father because there's no way that a younger Wade would let that slide. Not that she knows for sure. She's just going on a gut feeling.

But is Earl the real reason why Wade never left Bluebell? Someone had to take care of him. Did Wade ever get fed up and tried to take off then decided to turn around and go home? Did he want more out of life; to go places and see things and meet new people and get out of the tiny town bubble?

Did Earl crush some big dream of Wade's? Did he ever want to have a grand adventure but ended up only making it five miles away from the house he grew up in?

Did he ever get tired of it all? Did he ever have a moment while he was climbing the stairs to get to the roof to sing Earl down where he felt like giving up? Does he ever take a breath and think about turning around and walking away because he's sick of being the one doing the saving and protecting when it should be the other way around. The father should be protecting the son.

And why does he have to sing? And why Moon River? Does it have anything to do with Wade's mom? And where the hell is she?

She has a million and one questions and she's afraid to know the answers to all of them. Especially the last one. What if it's something really tragic and he doesn't want to talk about it. What if she walked out on him and Earl? What if she died?

She's creating more questions for herself and her head starts to hurt. She drops her head into her hand and rubs her fingertips across her forehead. She's been in this town too long and she's starting to care.

"Wade."

Earl calls his name and Zoe flinches because he's been the one she's been thinking about (caring about).

"I think we're gonna need some more chairs." Earl tips his head towards the stragglers that have just arrived. "I know we have some more, where are they?"

"Out in the barn." He tells him as he settles back down into the chair. But then his eyes widen when he realizes that that's where the teens are drinking the wine coolers and Wade pushes himself out of the chair. "I'll get 'em. Don't worry." He catches up to Earl and steps in front of him and Zoe twists around to watch them. "I'll get them." Wade repeats.

"I'll go with you. You'll probably going to need some help."

"Nah, its fine." Wade's walking backwards in front of Earl as he walks forward, not understand his son's actions.

"We're going to need a lot of them. You can't carry them all. What is your problem?"

"I'll help him." Zoe stands and the men both look at her with confusion. She doesn't even really get it. "I can help him." She slowly walks to Wade's side. "You stay, it's your party."

"I can't let you do that."

"Sure you can. It's not like I've done anything all day." Zoe reasons. "It's just a couple of chairs; it's not a big deal." She puts her hand on Wades arm and urges him to keep walking; she's got this. "We'll be right back."

With one final push she gets him walking again and the two of them make their way towards the barn. The closer they get to it the darker it gets because it's not decorated past the designated party zone. She trips over a rock in her cheap flip flops and like he was expecting it he reaches out to steady her with his arm looped around her waist and hand on her arm.

"Thank you." She says softly but he doesn't acknowledge her and she rolls her eyes as he keeps walking.

They make it to the barn where he shoots the boys with the bottles a dirty look and they drop the bottles to their sides like they're hiding them and stare down at their feet.

Wade slides the barn door open and lets her in first. The barn is pitch black and she stands in the small strip of light until she feels his chest against her back and his hand on her shoulders as he gently sways her out of the way and reaches over to flip on the light.

The barn is old and musty; two stalls on the far side are being used for storage and three inches of hay on the ground. The metal chairs are leaning against the side wall and Wade steps around a lawn mower that has definitely seen better days to get to them.

Zoe doesn't move from the spot where he left her as she watches him maneuver around the machinery to get to them, the exposed skin on his back from where his shirt rides up as he leans over gets most of her attention.

"Watch out for snakes." He tells her and she gasps and looks at her feet; eyes scanning the ground. He laughs quietly and she crosses her arms and pouts.

"That's not funny."

"I wasn't trying to be."

The silence stretches between them again and Wade gathers an arm full of chairs and passes them carefully over to her.

She's awkward and clumsy as she positions them against her, the metal cold against her bare legs.

"You know you're just like your dad." She breaks the silence but the look that he gives her makes her wish she just stayed quiet. "I mean…just the way that you are. The way that you act."

The look gets more severe. She's just as awkward and clumsy as she was with the chairs.

"I just mean that you're good with women."

Wade's eyebrows knit together and his lips press into a thin line. Leave it to her to mess up a compliment.

She huffs out a breath. "People like you. People like him."

"They feel sorry for him."

"I don't think that's true."

He's got his own group of chairs and makes his way to the open door and she follows after, the chairs bumping against her shins.

"Hey, that's not true. I think it's more than that." She reaches for him at the door and she loses her grip on the chairs and they clatter to the ground. "I think they just like him."

He shakes his head. "No. Trust me, I know." He drops his chairs too and leans on them. "I know all of this is done out of pity. They don't want to be here. This stupid party started before he got like this and they don't want to be rude and change it. Every year it happens and everyone acts like everything is fine and then the first of the month rolls around and they're all laughing at him when he's up on the roof."

"They weren't laughing at him."

"And why wouldn't they laugh at him? It's pathetic. I'm getting tired of it, he's a grown man and I shouldn't have to put up with it, right?" He stares out towards the lake; jaw set and head shaking in anger. She's learning the answers to the questions she was asking herself. "Whatever." He heaves a sigh. "Let's just get back out there before he comes looking for us."

But she won't have it. Her bedside manner always kicks in at the most inconvenient times.

"Look, Wade, I know what it's like to be ashamed of a parent."

"I'm not ashamed of him." He snaps and picks up the chairs but she immediately knocks them back down again.

"I'm not saying you are, I didn't mean to offend you." She says quickly. "Why is it so hard to connect with you people?" She mumbles under her breath. "All I'm saying is that my mom isn't perfect either. She lied to me about who my real father is and growing up wasn't so great. I've told you about the champagne and friend's husbands and male models. And my non-father? Not a real gem either."

"It's not the same. People aren't talking nonstop."

"You think there aren't gossip circles in New York? Think again. But I guess it does make a difference that I'm all the way down here and I can't hear any of it." She admits.

"I can't do anything about it." He glances back to the crowd then down to her again. "You know how many times I have tried to talk him out gettin' drunk? Nothing works. It's in one ear and out the other so this is my life now. No one else is going to help him."

"They wouldn't just let him jump off a building." She winces. That sounds a little severe.

"Yeah but no one should have to deal with that. No one else should be up there. Not while I'm around."

It's on the tip of her tongue to ask him if he wants more.

"And what's the point of fighting it? Not like I have anything better to do." He says sadly and she swears she feels her heart break, a feeling she's not used to.

"You know you could have more."

He huffs out a disbelieving laugh and holds up his hand. "Stop. This is it."

The chairs are back off the ground and she can't form the nice words she wants to say to him in her head so she resorts to a very Wade like tactic to stop him.

She puts her hand on his hip, over the warm cotton of his thin, white t-shirt and stands on her toes to reach his lips with her own.

It's a simple kiss; he barely has the chance to kiss back by the time she pulls away but remains on her toes to try and meet his eye line.

A flash and a pop go off next to them followed by the pleased gasp of the townspeople. It's a practice firework. Kind of like the kiss.

"Is that…" He pauses and puts her arm around his waist because she's unsteady. "Is that because you feel sorry for me?"

She shakes her head slowly and moves both hands to his chest. "No. I just wanted to."

Another firework goes off, followed by another and another. The real show is starting and the testing it over.

Wade smiles, light and life reaching his eyes for the first time that night.

He leans down and kisses her again.

A real kiss.


End file.
